Washing It Away
by morgangirl11
Summary: "They'd been close to death too many times, together or individually, but tonight was a reminder that nothing would hurt as much as being the one left behind." A one-shot set after "Under Fire" (6x11).


His trembling hand bracketed her waist, resting above the material of her trench coat and unable to find the reassurance that would have come from the gentle warmth of her skin. He was relieved when she met his eyes with honest emotion, her walls no longer an obstacle, though she eventually turned away on a stuttered breath and led his focus back to the ambulance. They stood as silent witnesses to Jenny's pleas, a reminder that none of them could guarantee that they'd come home at the end of the day.

He stayed close while Kate navigated the personal and professional, near enough that she could draw from his strength; he would let himself break later. When the boys were finally rescued and the team reunited, relieved hugs and smiles pushed their tension back inside, tucked it carefully behind the tears that had yet to fall and the nightmares that had yet to haunt. Eventually, they wrapped up at the scene and headed back to the loft, eager to wash reality from their soot-coated skin.

* * *

Within seconds of closing the door of the loft behind them, their coats were removed and their shoes were kicked aside unceremoniously; a subtle desperation settled around them, a need to rid themselves of some of their armor so that they could easily reach for something softer in each other. She was noticeably shorter, and he took the opportunity to bring her closer, to tuck her under his chin where he knew she felt safest.

"I love you."

It was a sentiment he'd offered hundreds of times before, but her defenses were down and he felt the sob she couldn't quite swallow. He didn't await a response, moving instead to clasp her hand in his so that he could carefully tug her toward their room.

He didn't stop until they were in the middle of the bathroom, harsh lights having been dimmed with the adjustment of the switch on the wall. Standing in front of her, he rested his hands on her hips for a moment, then began the slow drag upward, the hem of her shirt caught on this thumbs and lifted toward her head. She raised her arms to help and was free of the material a second later. His hands fell to skate across the front of her bra before he embraced her more fully, reaching around to unfasten it with practiced fingers, sliding it down her arms and letting it fall to the ground without further ado.

When he unbuttoned her pants and lowered the zipper, he felt the anticipatory shiver of her body, her nerve endings responding as though his touch was about more than quiet comfort. He crouched down and caressed her legs as they were bared to him, eventually helping her to step out of her pants and socks so that he could push them aside. He placed a chaste kiss to her upper thigh before he nuzzled against the soft fabric of her panties, then removed them as well, adding to the pile on the bathroom floor.

Standing up to undress himself, he paused when he saw the wet, black trail left on her cheek, the tear having cut through the soot and threatening to drip from her chin. It only took a moment for him to brush it away with his thumb, his hand cradling her face, but he was certain the image would make a reappearance later in the night, his subconscious sure to trouble him with the memory.

In a sudden hurry to cleanse them both, of the grime or the fear he wasn't sure, he quickly took off his clothes and moved to turn on the shower. She waited silently until he took her hand again and led her under the steaming spray, pulling her body against his as soon as they were enveloped in the heat. They stayed there for quite a while, letting the water tap relief into their skin, letting their mingled heartbeats assure them that they weren't alone.

They'd been close to death too many times, together or individually, but tonight was a reminder that nothing would hurt as much as being the one left behind.

He felt her sink into him, some of the tension finally pulled from deep in her bones, and he reached behind her for her body wash, forgoing the loofa and opting to use his hands to rub the soap into her skin. Letting their foreheads fall together, her arms limp at her sides, he worked his way over her shoulders and down the path of her spine; at her waist, his hands reversed direction until he found her neck, kneading the muscles pulled taut beneath his fingertips. Her breathing was still interrupted by emotions she couldn't contain, but he caught each unsteady exhalation, trying to offer something more certain in return.

Needing to wash her lower body, he released her long enough to position himself on the shower's granite bench, then motioned for her to rest her foot alongside him. With the access she'd afforded him, his hands twisted their way up her perfectly toned leg, stopping only when they could travel no further; he nodded for her to switch and then repeated the careful motion on her other side. He supposed he got lost for a moment, his mind drifting back to the day he was trying to forget, because she tugged at his hand until he stood and brought her into his embrace once more.

They both knew they had to get out of the shower eventually, so by unspoken agreement they separated long enough to wash their own hair and rinse the remainder of the soot from their faces. It wasn't much longer before the water was turned off, their bodies wrapped in thick towels while they got ready for bed.

Had he thought about it ahead of time, he would have been sure that they'd crave sleep above all else, the emotional toll overriding any physical need, but as he sunk into the mattress, one look at her told him differently. She crawled under the covers and tried to blink away something desperate in her eyes; he traced a finger along her eyelid and reminded her that she didn't have to hide it from him. He watched the resignation trip across her beautiful face, reading the plea on her lips more than he even heard the whisper.

"Please."

It took no more than that, and probably would have happened without it. He rolled to press her onto her back, his body a weight that he knew she welcomed, a way to hold her together when she was too close to splitting apart. His mouth was against hers in the next second, the kiss painfully slow, but everything they needed. Without breaking their connection, he reached for the covers that had slipped toward their waists, pulling them over their shoulders and cocooning them further.

Her hips pushed away from the bed and he moved his hand to her side, gentling her movement with tender fingers. It didn't happen much anymore, but there were still nights she relied on old habits, seeking something hard and fast to drive away emotions she wasn't ready to feel. He took it upon himself to slow her down. To make her feel something.

Separating their bodies just slightly, he let his fingertips ghost over the goosebumped skin of her abdomen before they trailed lower, finding heat reserved for him. They continued to kiss, his lips and tongue setting a careful pace.

She gasped into his mouth when he slid two fingers deep, her response to him stronger than he had anticipated given the solemnity of the night. He couldn't remember a time when he'd moved quite so slowly within her, pulling back with wet fingers that ached for more. Her hips rocked forward as soon as his hand was free from her grip and he was unwilling to leave her empty for long; he pushed into her again, savoring the subtle tightening of her muscles. He found a rhythm that worked for him and soothed something raw within her.

The drag of his fingertips beckoned her, asked her to give up the fear she'd suppressed most of the night. The press of his thumb coaxed her further. He knew she was close when she tensed in his arms, her lips unable to maintain any semblance of grace against his, and he whispered encouragement into her open mouth. Her climax rolled through her body, ripples caused by a stone's throw and absorbed by his skin.

He withdrew from the warmth but didn't get far before she reached between them and curled her thin fingers around him. While he would have been content to let his own need settle silently into the sheets around them, he also wouldn't refuse her this. It would be the affirmation she needed, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want the same, the anxiety over the boys' rescue still rattling uncomfortably in his chest. She guided him toward her and let go only when he started to ease forward on his own, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms pulling the comforter tighter around them, as close to a literal security blanket as any adult could have.

Small sounds tumbled from her mouth, but he hurried to catch each one with a gentle tongue. As he continued to rock into her, he exhibited a patience he saved for the nights she needed it most, taking everything she gave him in return. They stayed tangled for an eternity, or maybe mere minutes, but when he felt like they'd been put back together, he knew it was time to fall apart.

His hand threaded through her wet hair, cradling the back of her head and making promises without a single word. He watched her eyelids flutter shut the moment before his did the same. They couldn't manage a kiss, gasping against each other instead, their mumbled names exchanged in the air between them.

When they finally parted, he rolled to her side and nudged her temple with the tip of his nose. He couldn't offer much more than he already had, but he summoned a whisper in the dark.

"They're okay."

He felt her nod against him and he knew she didn't trust herself to speak.

"We're _all_ okay."

* * *

A/N: A tumblr anon asked me to expand on some tags, and this is what happened. Thank you for taking the time to read it!


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